


Perchance to Dream

by Khiori63



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Artwork "It's All Right" by Khiori, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khiori63/pseuds/Khiori63
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock's dreams become a reality, with disastrous results.</p><p>Based on the "Star Trek:  Next Generation" episode "Phantasm"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perchance to Dream

Spock made his way down the corridor, his attention focused on the Padd in his hand. They were currently holding orbit over Starbase 6 and there were a myriad of tasks to be completed before they could depart.  
  
"Mr. Spock!"  
  
He turned to see Mr. Scott approaching rapidly. He paused as the engineer hurried up to him.  
  
"Sir, if ye kin lend a hand, we need tae install that plasma conduit before we kin bring th'new warp core on-line. The captain is anxious tae get started."  
  
Spock nodded. "I am on my way to the bridge to begin the modifications. Once they are complete, I will meet you in Engineering."  
  
"Aye, Mr. Spock."  
  
As the Engineer departed, Spock made his way to the nearest turbo lift. He was about to enter when he paused, tilting his head slightly. Off in the distance was an unfamiliar sound, echoing down the corridor. It slowly grew louder and he was soon able to identify it as a type of ringing. The noise was intermittent, with a 1.2 second pause between each ring. He made his way toward the sound as it increased in volume, to the point where his eardrums began throbbing slightly in pain. As he rounded a corner, he stopped short, eyebrows rising.  
  
Before him stood three crewmen, none of whom he recognized, holding what appeared to be old-fashioned picks and shovels. They had removed a large section of the wall, revealing one of the warp plasma conduits, and were busy hacking away at it.  
  
He stepped forward. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I am unaware of any work to be done in this area. Who has authorized you to perform this task?"  
  
He was ignored. Brow furrowing, he moved closer and examined the damage done to the wall. "You are dismantling a warp plasma conduit. I order you to cease your efforts immediately."  
  
  
Again, no response. He took another step forward and opened his mouth to speak, when, to his complete astonishment, out came a high-pitched shriek, instead. Stunned, he quickly closed his mouth. At the same moment, the three crewmen turned to face him, their expressions cold and calculating. Suddenly they dropped their tools and headed straight toward him, fists clenched and with a menacing look in their eyes. Outnumbered and obviously in danger, Spock attempted to flee, only to find he was frozen in place, unable to move. He could only watch helplessly as one of the crewmen rushed forward and grabbed his arm. With a sharp yank and twist, he tore it from its socket. Shocked and confused, Spock stared in disbelief as his severed arm was thrown down the corridor, landing a few meters away with a sickening thump. Then all three men pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. His ears registered the sound of flesh tearing and bones snapping as he was torn apart, limb by limb. Hands grabbed his neck and squeezed...  
  
He bolted awake with a gasp, his sudden movement eliciting a startled grunt from beside him. He glanced around in momentary confusion and as full awareness returned, recognized he was in his quarters.  
  
A dream...  
  
A hand touched his shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"  
  
Spock took a deep breath, mentally shaking off the last vestiges of the dream. He turned to his captain and soon to-be bondmate.  
  
"I am well. I believe, however, I have just experienced what you humans would term a ‘nightmare’."  
  
Kirk gave him a puzzled look. "I thought Vulcans didn’t have nightmares."  
  
"Generally we do not. In times of extreme stress, however, such disturbances are not uncommon."  
  
"Really? I didn’t know you were under any stress. Unless I missed something?"  
  
Spock shook his head. "You did not. There is no physiological cause for such an occurrence. I am at a loss to explain it."  
  
The hand on his shoulder gave a gentle squeeze. "Want to talk about it?"  
  
"It is not necessary. As is typical with such matters of the subconscious, the events made little sense. They were, however, somewhat...bizarre."  
  
The hand slid off his shoulder down to the small of his back and began rubbing slow, gentle circles. "Sounds like a typical nightmare, all right." There was a pause. "You sure you’re okay?"  
  
"Indeed. I apologize for disturbing your rest."  
  
  
Kirk waved a hand. "Forget it. That’s why I’m here." He grinned wickedly. "Well, one of the reasons."  
  
Spock glanced at Kirk. "Are you implying you wish to indulge in one particular ‘reason’?"  
  
"The thought is tempting, but it’s late and you have a busy day tomorrow. So I think we’d better just go back to sleep."  
  
"An eminently logical suggestion."  
  
A tug on his shoulder and Spock was gently guided back down onto the bed. Kirk drew up the covers and then snuggled close, spoon-fashion, one arm draped over Spock’s chest. Warm breath blew steadily against the back of his neck as Kirk’s respirations evened out in the normal pattern of sleep. But Spock found it difficult to follow suit. He was not particularly bothered by the nightmare itself, but the fact he even had one was somewhat disquieting. While it was true extreme stress could result in such occurrences among his people, Spock himself had never experienced a nightmare before, regardless of his emotional state. More, even if such were the case, he was not, as Jim pointed out, under any particular stress at present. The entire incident was quite puzzling and like the nightmare itself, most inexplicable.  
  
He was then struck by a sudden thought. Perhaps it was related to his current relationship with Jim. While the emotional aspect essentially remained unchanged, the added element of frequent physical coupling over the last 17 days often required Spock to lower his barriers on a regular basis. It was possible that such loosening of his control could have allowed his subconscious mind to gain free reign over his sleep. Thus, the nightmare. An intriguing theory, one that certainly merited further exploration.  
  
But as Kirk shifted even closer, his arm tightening, any additional thoughts on the subject were quickly replaced by one simple truth – if the price for what he now shared with his T’hy’la was a few random nightmares, it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

*********

  
The next morning Spock was in Engineering, working together with Scott as they sought to bring the new warp core online. While the task itself required both their expertise, the Engineer was insistent on performing a large portion of the work himself ("Nae that I dinnae think ye’re capable, Mr. Spock, but these are mah bairns").  
  
Thus, Spock was left with little else to do other than monitor the Engineer’s progress. So while he remained attentive to the task at hand, he soon found his thoughts returning to the events of the previous night. Rationally, he knew he should just dismiss the nightmare for what it was, but he was finding it difficult to do so. Not that he considered the happenings in the dream to be of a premonitory nature; still, there was something about the experience itself that was somewhatunsettling. Why this was so, he was at a loss to explain. Nightmares were, after all, nothing more than images created by the subconscious mind during sleep. They had no relation to logic or any other form of rational thought. Therefore, there was no basis for his own "nightmare" to warrant such extensive perusal. And yet...  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the whistle of the intercom. "Kirk to Engineering. Scotty, Spock, what’s our status?"  
  
  
"We’re ready tae bring th' warp core on line, Keptin. Stand by."  
  
Spock moved to a nearby console. "Initiating deuterium infusion sequence."  
  
Seconds later the warp core came to life, filling the Engineering section with a blue pulsating light. Spock raised an eyebrow. The light pulses were 1.3 seconds faster than normal and the sound of the core was different, as well.  
  
Next to him, Scott grinned. "T’is a beauty, isn’t it? Now let’s see how fast our bonnie lass can go." He flipped on the intercom. "Scott tae bridge. We’re ready down here, Keptin. Ye kin take her tae warp any time ye want."  
  
"Acknowledged, Mr. Scott."  


*********************

On the bridge, Kirk leaned forward in his command chair with ill-concealed excitement. Judging by the grins on the faces of his bridge crew, the feeling was mutual. "Ensign Chekov, plot a course for Starbase 19. Warp 6."  
  
"Aye, sair." A moment later, then, "Course laid in, Captain."  
  
"Engage."  
  
Kirk focused his gaze on the view screen in eager anticipation. But the stars remained static. His ship wasn’t moving.  
  
"Ensign?"  
  
Chekov worked furiously at his board for a moment, then turned to Kirk. "No response, sair."  
  
Kirk hit the intercom. "Engineering. Scotty, nothing’s happening. What’s going on?"  
  
"A wee problem, Keptin. A warp plasma conduit is out of alignment. Just give me one momentReady now, sair."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Mr. Chekov, if you please?"  
  
Once again the navigator bent over his board. Suddenly, Kirk heard the unmistakable sound of the power dropping and seconds later the bridge was plunged into darkness.  
  
"Emergency lighting!"  
  
Immediately his surroundings were bathed in an eerie red glow. Alarmed and more than a little annoyed, Kirk hit the intercom. "Scotty, we just lost power. What the hell is going on?"  
  
"I’m sorry, Keptin. We’re gonnae hae tae reconfigure th' plasma conduit. It’ll be a couple of hours at least, sair. I’ll need tae take th' warp engines off line until then."  
  
Kirk suppressed a sigh. "Very well. Carry on, Mr. Scott."  
  
  
"Aye, sair."

***********  
  
"Checkmate." Kirk settled back in his chair, his gaze focused on Spock. After studying the board for a moment, the Vulcan nodded.  
  
"Well played, Jim. Another game?"  
  
Kirk shook his head. "Not with the way you’re playing tonight. I’ve never won two games so easily." He leaned forward. "Something’s on your mind besides chess. Want to talk about it?"  
  
Spock hesitated, then nodded. "You are correct. There is indeed ‘something on my mind’."  
  
"The dream?"  
  
Another nod. "Although I know it was merely the product of my subconscious mind, I cannot seem to dismiss it. I find that mostunsettling."  
  
"Well, maybe you shouldn’t try."  
  
Spock gave him a puzzled look. "I do not understand."  
  
"Spock, I don’t pretend to know how your or any Vulcan mind works, but in humans, dreams, even nightmares, are completely natural and normal. Which is why we don’t spend a lot of time analyzing them. So I think instead of trying to ‘logic’ your dream away, you should just embrace it for what it is." He grinned. "You know, Sigmund Freud did say, ‘Dreams are the royal road to the knowledge of the mind’."  
  
Spock’s eyebrow rose. "Freud, Captain? I was unaware you had such interest in human psychology. I would think that would be more Dr. McCoy’s expertise."  
  
"Well, you know what they say about starship captains."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"In our profession, sometimes we need to be a "jack of all trades’."  
  
"Indeed? That is something of which I was also unaware."  
  
 Kirk grinned. "Well, let’s just say it comes with the territory." He rose and came over to Spock, grasping a hand and pulling the Vulcan to his feet. "And speaking of ‘trades’, let me show you another one that has nothing to do with Freud." He wrapped both arms around the lean form, his lips rising to meet Spock’s. As the kiss deepened, their link flared open, sending tiny sparks of desire shooting through them both, sparks which quickly became flames. Hands began divesting each other of clothing as they somehow made their way over to the bed. They tumbled down onto the pliant surface, their lips still locked together and soon all thoughts of dreams and nightmares were forgotten as passion rose to take their place.

*****************  
  
Spock entered the main mess hall and headed toward the food processors. Before he reached his destination, however, an unusual sight caught his eye. He changed direction and made his way over to a nearby table, at which sat Lieutenant Sulu. The helmsman was busy digging his fork into a piece of chocolate cake. That in itself was not out of place, as Spock was well-aware that Sulu, like most humans, often indulged in such confections. The same, however, could not be said for the cake. It was covered in blue frosting, the color of which was an exact match to his own uniform. Atop lay a Starfleet insignia, which Sulu plucked off and set aside. He then took a big bite of the cake. "Mmmmm. Delicious."  
  
"Excuse me, Lieutenant. May I ask what it is you are consuming?"  
  
"Sure, Mr. Spock. It’s cellular peptide cake with mint frosting. Wanna bite?"  
  
Spock shook his head. "No, thank you. I would, however..."  
  
Before he could finish, he became aware of a familiar sound. It was the same ringing he’d heard previously, but this time it was echoing all around him, making the source difficult to pinpoint. He began a slow circuit of the room, his head swiveling back and forth as he tried to determine its precise location. He had only traveled 1.3 meters when another peculiar sight diverted him from his quest.  
  
Seated directly in front of him were Engineer Scott and Lieutenant Uhura. The communications officer was sipping from an opaque straw, the other end of which was inserted into the engineer’s temple. Her eyes were closed and it was clear from her expression that she found the taste of what she was consuming most...pleasurable. As for Mr. Scott, he appeared to be completely unaffected by his rather unusual circumstance, with the exception of a somewhat annoyed look on his face.  
  
"Mr. Spock, if ye don’t mind, could ye please answer that?"  
  
"Answer what, Mr. Scott?"  
  
"Why, the ringing, ay course. T’is giving me a headache."  
  
"Certainly, Mr. Scott. I shall tend to it at once."  
  
"Thank ye, laddie."  
  
Spock continued his circuit of the room as the ringing grew louder. Moments later, he came upon what he believed to be its source, a nearby table surrounded by three crewmen, their backs toward him. At that moment, the ringing stopped.  
  
"Excuse me, gentlemen. I wish to..."  
  
His voice trailed off as the others turned to face him and he realized they were the same three crewmen he'd encountered in his previous...nightmare.  
  
"Gentlemen, I must inform you that assaulting a senior officer is a violation of Starfleet Regulation 5..." Suddenly his voice once again gave way to the same high-pitched shriek as before.  
  
  
One of the crewmen gave him a threatening look. "Be quiet!"  
  
Spock obediently closed his mouth. Another crewman held out a large knife - larger even than the Vulcan lipau hanging in his quarters. Puzzled, he took the instrument, unsure as what he was to do with it. Before he could ponder the matter further, the others stepped away from the table, revealing a most startling sight.  
  
On its surface lay Nurse Chapel. Her arms and legs were missing, and in place of her body was a giant cake, its appearance an exact duplicate of her torso, including her uniform. A piece had already been removed where her uniform insignia should be. One of the crewmen gestured at her. "Go ahead, help yourself." At the same moment, Chapel looked at him, eyes wide with terror.  
  
"Please, Mr. Spock, help me!"  
  
Spock ignored her pleading and stepped forward. With a single swift gesture, he neatly sliced a piece of cake from her shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from the nurse.  
  
"No, no, please, stop!"  
  
He paused and looked down at her. "I am sorry, Nurse, but I must." He bent forward, intent on slicing another piece when someone grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him violently.  
  
"Spock! Spock! Wake up!"  
  
He opened his eyes to find he was slumped forward on the desk in his quarters, his head resting on his hands. He bolted upright, his eyes widening at the sight of Dr. McCoy and Security Chief Giotto standing in front of him. The hands gripping his shoulders loosened their hold as his captain came around and knelt at his side.  
  
Dazed and confused, Spock turned to Kirk. "Jim...what...?"  
  
"You were supposed to be in Engineering ten minutes ago. When you didn't show, Scotty got worried and called me. I found you here and just spent the last minute or so trying to wake you up."  
  
Spock shook his head. "That is impossible. I never intended to sleep."  
  
Kirk nodded. "That's what I figured since one, it's not like you to take a nap in the middle of the day and two, even if you did, it certainly wouldn't be at your desk." He paused. "What's the last thing you remember?"  
  
Spock frowned. "I left the bridge at 1300 hours. I then proceeded to Science Lab 1 to render assistance to Lieutenant Markel, per her request. After which, I determined I had 35.2 minutes before I was to meet with Mr. Scott. I decided to use that time to investigate the issues with the new warp core. I entered my quarters..." his voice trailed off. "That is all I recall. That, and the dream."  
  
"You had another dream?"  
  
Spock nodded. "Most puzzling. There were several elements similar to the one I experienced previously." He glanced up at Kirk. "Would that be considered a normal occurrence?"  
  
"You mean having the same dream twice? It can happen, but it's pretty rare. Especially for someone who supposedly doesn't dream at all. But right now, I'm more concerned that you fell asleep in the first place." Kirk turned his attention to the two other occupants in the room. "Lieutenant, you can return to your duties. Bones, take Spock to Sickbay. I want a full examination."  
  
"Okay, Jim. Spock, let's go."  
  
"Captain, that is not necessary. I am..."  
  
Kirk held up a hand. "No arguments, Spock. The dreams are one thing, but falling asleep when you had no intention of doing so is quite another. I want to know why and the first step is to make sure nothing's wrong with you. That's where Bones comes in. Now get to Sickbay."  
  
Spock knew better than to protest any further. "Yes, sir." He rose and followed the doctor out the door.

***********  
  
"Well, Spock, as far as I can tell, everything checks out just fine. You could stand to gain a few pounds, but other than that, you're perfectly healthy. So whatever's causing these dreams of yours doesn't seem to be related to anything physical." McCoy paused. "You have any ideas what's going on?"  
  
"Only one. I am exploring the theory that my dreams are related in some fashion to my current relationship with the captain."  
  
"You mean you think they have something to do with the fact the two of you are now sleeping together?"  
  
"It is a possibility. Yet even if I were proven correct, that still does not explain what happened earlier today. I fail to see how a dream can induce one to fall sleep."  
  
"So maybe they weren't just dreams. Why don't you tell me about them?"  
  
Spock hesitated. "I...have not yet fully assimilated the images. I prefer to ponder the matter further before discussing it."  
  
"Hmmm. Sounds like they must have been pretty strange."  
  
"Doctor, 'strange' is not a sufficient adjective to describe them."

************  
  
Later that day, Spock was back in Engineering. The warp core once again active, glowing and humming. Nearby, Scott flipped on the intercom. "Scott tae Keptin."  
  
  
"Kirk here."  
  
"We've just started her up, sair. All systems are holdin' steady. We're ready tae go tae warp."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Scott."  
  
On the bridge, Kirk mentally crossed his fingers. "Ensign, set course for Starbase 19. Again."  
  
Chekov grinned. "Aye, sair."  
  
"Engage."  
  
The familiar sound of his ship going to warp reached Kirk's ears, but the stars filling the view screen remained still. They weren't moving. Again. Kirk sighed and paged Engineering. "Mr. Scott, we appear to still have a problem."  
  
In Engineering, Scott had no time to answer as he watched in alarm as the light from the warp core grew dimmer and dimmer, then suddenly the core shut down with a loud rattle. He rushed over to a nearby console and began frantically pushing buttons.  
  
"Engineering! Report!"  
  
Scott hit the intercom. "Th' warp field's collapsed, Keptin. It looks like we've blown out th' entire power converter. Impulse engines are down, too. We're nae goin' anywhere for awhile, sair."  
  
"How long to repair it?" Kirk did not sound happy.  
  
"Two, three hours at most, sair."  
  
There was a loud sigh. "Very well, Mr. Scott. Carry on."  
  
"Aye, sair."  
  
Scott switched off the intercom just as the core emitted a loud rattling noise. He groaned. "Now what?" He glanced at Spock. "I think we'd better get tae work, laddie."  
  
"Agreed, Mr. Scott."  
  
They moved over to one of the warp plasma conduits. Spock peripherally noted that it resembled the conduit he had seen in the first of his dreams. The core continued to rattle from time to time, eliciting a string of curses from the Engineer.  
  
"Ensign Tyler!"  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
"Where's that relay diagnostic?"  
  
  
"Right here, sir!"  
  
Scott studied the padd, then turned to Spock, gesturing toward the core. "I need a hand with th' coil brace."  
  
"Certainly, Mr. Scott."  
  
They reached into the conduit together and removed a long thin piece of bracing material.  
  
"Mr. Spock, could ye perform a metallurgical scan on th' brace? I want to see if there are any microfractures."  
  
Spock nodded. He picked up a tricorder and was just about to run the scan when he stopped, staring down at the brace in his hand. The material and shape were most consistent with the knife he'd used in his dream to slice into Nurse Chapel. The similarities were so striking he was convinced it could not be mere coincidence.  
  
"Is something wrong, Mr. Spock? Ye look a wee bit distracted."  
  
Spock glanced at the Engineer. "It is of no concern, Mr. Scott. I shall have the results momentarily."  
  
Scott nodded and crossed in front of him. Spock was just about to begin the scan when something caught his eye and he focused his gaze on the back of the engineer’s neck. Attached to the skin was what could only be described as a mouth. It was approximately 4.8 cm, ringed by rows of sharp teeth. Without warning, it gave a loud HISS and he stepped back in alarm. At the same time a familiar ringing noise filled the room. Spock turned to locate its source when suddenly the room went quiet, except for the ringing. He glanced around and discovered Engineering was now completely deserted. He was alone.  
  
"Aren’t ye gonnae answer that, Mr. Spock?" It was Scott’s voice, but the engineer was nowhere to be found.  
  
"I do not know how."  
  
"T’is easy." Scott suddenly appeared in front of him, holding what Spock recognized as an old fashion phone. Spock picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Hello?"  
  
A voice he didn’t recognize spoke. "Kill them. Kill them all before it’s too late."  
  
Shocked, he dropped the receiver. At the same time a hand grabbed him from behind.  
  
"Mr. Spock!"  
  
He turned to see Scott and Ensign Tyler staring at him with concern. Scott’s hand still clutching his arm. Spock took a quick glance at his surroundings. All appeared to be back to normal.  
  
"Are ye all right, laddie? For a moment there, ye looked like ye were gonnae faint."  
  
Shaken, Spock took a deep breath. "I do not know. I believe I just experienced a...hallucination."  
  
The Engineer stared at him in shock.  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Scott. I do not think that at present, it would be wise for me to remain."  
  
"Aye, laddie. Should I tell Dr. McCoy yer on yer way?"  
  
While the Engineer was overstepping his bounds somewhat, Spock could not deny the logic of his...suggestion, no more than he could deny the genuine care and concern in Scott's voice.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Please also inform the captain I will be in Sickbay."  
  
"Aye, sir."

*************  
  
"It is most puzzling. Since my experience in Engineering, there appear to be constant reminders of my dreams. Each crewmember I encounter, every object I see, every sound I hear- all seem to bear some relation." Spock's gaze shifted from his folded hands to the two men sitting across the briefing room table. "As you have ruled out any physiological cause, Doctor, I am somewhat at a loss to explain it."  
  
McCoy leaned forward slightly. "What about your theory the dreams might be related to your relationship with Jim?"  
  
Spock shook his head. "While that may indeed have given rise to the dreams, Doctor, I cannot fathom how the same would result in my apparent...hallucination. Nor does it explain why I now associate all I see with my dreams."  
  
"All I can say, Spock, is that whatever's wrong, it's not showing up on any of my equipment. So at the moment, there's really not much more I can do for you. And I take it you don't sense anything wrong, either?"  
  
Spock nodded. "That is correct, Doctor. I have performed three self-diagnoses in the past 12 hours, yet I have been unable to locate any deficiencies in my physical or mental state." He paused. "I have also studied over 138 different theories of dream analysis in an effort to determine what is causing these...events."  
  
This time it was Kirk who leaned forward. "Anything unusual turn up?"  
  
  
Spock shook his head. "I have been unable to find a single interpretation that I can relate to my dreams. For example, neo-platonic hermetic texts from the Ancient Near East would suggest that my experience indicates a prophetic function that I have perceived an impending disaster. Professor Syrus of Tilonus Four would consider my dreams nothing more than epi-phenomena having to do with the subconscious." He paused. "Dr. Freud, I believe, would interpret that my dreams represent a latent psychosexual complex." His eyes met Kirk's. "Perhaps he is correct. In my second dream, I deliberately inflicted pain upon Nurse Chapel. It is possible that I have an unconscious desire to do violence to others and somehow that desire has become unleashed."  
  
McCoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You, of all people, harboring violent tendencies? I think you're taking things a bit too far. Even Freud said sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And as far as those theories you've examined, while they're all interesting, they’re also flawed and obsolete." He shifted slightly in his seat. "You know, it seems to me that you're developing an almost...obsessive interest in these dreams. It's even beginning to resemble a type of neurosis."  
  
Spock stared at him. "That is not possible, Doctor."  
  
"Anything's possible. You can't tell me that your human half is immune to the same psychological complexities as the rest of us."  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I find that highly unlikely."  
  
"Yeah, well, I don't. And I'll tell you something else. If I feel you are becoming obsessed with this, I'm going to schedule regular counseling sessions for you."  
  
"I assure you, Doctor, that will not be necessary."  
  
"Let me be the judge of that." McCoy turned to Kirk. "I'm dead serious about this, Jim. If you see him getting too distracted by these supposed dreams of his, or if anything else unusual happens, get him to Sickbay, stat."  
  
Kirk nodded. "I guarantee it, Bones." He gave Spock a determined look. "You hear that, Mister?"  
  
Spock knew better than to protest. "Yes, sir."  
  
"Good. In the meantime, I'm putting you on light duty until we figure out exactly what's going on. You can still carry out your responsibilities as science officer, but as of now, you’re relieved from your duties as first officer. And that includes staying off the bridge."  
  
"Captain, I must..."  
  
Kirk held up a hand. "No, Spock. So far these 'dreams' of yours haven't impacted the safety of the ship and crew. But there’s no guarantee it's going to stay that way and I can't take the risk. So for now, I think it's best to limit your duties to the science lab. And before you decide to argue with me, that's an order."  
  
Once again, Spock knew it would be futile to protest. "Yes, sir."

**********  
  
"Mmmm, yes, Spock, right there." Kirk closed his eyes in ecstasy as a hot mouth enclosed his left nipple and suckled gently. After a moment, soft lips slowly moved down to his stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. A tongue delved into his navel and Kirk quivered in anticipation as it traveled even further down...  
  
  
Suddenly and without warning, it was gone. Puzzled, Kirk opened his eyes as he felt Spock's weight lift off him. The Vulcan was staring at his right shoulder, the brown orbs reflecting both panic and dread.  
  
Alarmed, Kirk rose slightly. "Spock, what is it?"  
  
Instead of answering, Spock quickly rolled off the bed and reached for the thick red drape surrounding his sleeping quarters. With one swift motion, he ripped off a small knife, one of the many ancient Vulcan weapons hanging there, and turned back to Kirk. Before Kirk could even think to ask what he was up to, Spock was back on top of him, one hand pinning him down as the brown eyes once again fixated on his shoulder. With the other, Spock raised the knife, poised to strike.  
  
Shocked and stupefied, Kirk's instincts took over and he quickly reached up, both hands grabbing the Vulcan's wrist just as the knife began to descend. He locked his arms, holding it in place as his eyes desperately sought those of his soon-to-be bondmate. "Spock! Stop it! What are you doing?!"  
  
Spock's eyes shifted to meet his own. They were filled with regret. "I am sorry, Jim." Before Kirk could react, Spock wrenched his arm free and swiftly plunged the knife into Kirk's shoulder. Kirk cried out as Spock twisted the blade even deeper, tearing through flesh and muscle. Blood spurted out, pouring down his arm and staining the sheets. Kirk let out another cry as Spock yanked the knife free, only to hold it aloft, prepared to strike again.  
  
Despite his pain and shock, Kirk managed to raise his arms and place his hands on the sides of the Vulcan's face, fingers settling over the meld points. Spock, please! Stop! Come back to me!  
  
Spock paused, looking down at him in confusion. Suddenly, a look of sheer horror crossed his features and he dropped the knife. He scrambled off the bed and quickly backed away until he collided with the wall. He pressed himself tightly against it, all the while staring at Kirk, his eyes filled with terror.  
  
Kirk grit his teeth and struggled to his feet. With one hand pressed tightly against the wound in his shoulder, blood seeping around his fingers, he stumbled over to the intercom. "Kirk to Sickbay. Emergency, my quarters."  
  
"...Jim..."  
  
He turned to see Spock still pressed against the far wall, his face completely white. "You must call security. I must be confined."  
  
"Spock..."  
  
The Vulcan shook his head violently. "No! I am a danger to you. You must lock me away." His gaze focused on Kirk's shoulder. "Please. I cannot..."  
  
  
Kirk was in no shape to argue as a wave of dizziness swept over him and he swayed, struggling to stay upright. Instantly a firm hand gripped his elbow and he was guided back to the bed. Hands gently pushed him down before Spock once again retreated to his corner.  
  
Seconds later his door slid open and McCoy and Chapel rushed in. McCoy's eyes widened as he hurried over to Kirk. "My God, Jim! What happened?"  
  
Kirk fought to stay awake even as blackness rose. "Spock. He...attacked me. Not his...fault."  
  
"Another episode?"  
  
Kirk nodded, the motion almost causing him to lose his tenuous grip on consciousness. "Call...security. Tell them to...confine him...to the brig." He wanted to say more, but the hiss of a hypospray against his arm sent him spiraling down into blackness.  
   
Three hours later, despite protests from McCoy, Kirk was sitting in the brig across from his first officer, the doctor hovering worriedly over his shoulder. Spock's head was lowered, eyes focused on his hands clenched tightly in his lap.  
  
"Okay, Spock, tell me what happened." Kirk was careful to keep his voice calm and nonaccusatory the last thing he wanted was for Spock to blame himself for the attack, but based on the Vulcan's appearance, that might just be a lost cause. Every inch of Spock's body radiated guilt and shame.  
  
"I believe I had another hallucination, sir. This time, however, I felt an uncontrollable urge to...eliminate what I saw."  
  
"What did you see?"  
  
"A mouth, sir."  
  
"A mouth?"  
  
"Yes, sir. On your shoulder, sir."  
  
Kirk sighed. "Spock, would you stop with all the 'sirs'? You're giving me a headache."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Kirk rolled his eyes and glanced at McCoy, who just grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Kirk turned back to Spock. "So you saw a mouth on my shoulder. What did it look like?"  
  
"Sir, it was approximately 5.8 cm in length and contained several rows of sharp teeth. It was quite similar to the one I saw on the back of Mr. Scott's neck during my...hallucination in Engineering."  
  
"You saw the same thing on Scotty's neck?"  
  
  
"Yes, sir, however, I did not feel the compulsion to destroy it as I did yours." For the first time, Spock's eyes rose to meet Kirk's. "Jim, I am most sorry..."  
  
Kirk waved off the apology. "No, Spock. I don't blame you for what happened and I don't want you blaming yourself. Understood?"

 

  
  
"Yes, sir." Spock, however, didn't sound very convinced as his gaze once again focused on his hands. Kirk wasn't surprised. He didn't expect it was going to be that easy to assuage the guilt he knew Spock was feeling. It was, however, something that would have to be dealt with later. Right now they had bigger problems.  
  
"Spock, did you see these 'mouths' on anyone else?"  
  
"No, sir. In my second 'dream', however, there two rather strange...incidents involving not only Mr. Scott, but Lieutenant Uhura and Nurse Chapel, as well."  
  
"What kind of 'incidents'?"  
  
"I was in the mess hall, where I found Mr. Scott sitting with Lieutenant Uhura. The engineer had what I believe was a straw emerging from his left temple."  
  
Kirk didn't know quite what to make of that. "A straw? Attached to his head? What for?"  
  
"So Lieutenant Uhura could...consume his brain matter. She seemed to find the experience most... enjoyable."  
  
Kirk's eyes widened. "His brain? She was drinking his brain?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Kirk stared at him for a long moment. "And the second incident?"  
  
"I observed Lieutenant Sulu consuming a piece of cake. I was to discover later that it came from Nurse Chapel."  
  
"You mean Nurse Chapel brought a cake to the mess hall? That doesn't seem all that strange."  
  
"No, Captain, she did not bring the cake. She was the cake."  
  
Kirk could hardly believe what he was hearing. He glanced up at McCoy. The doctor’s eyes met his own as he gave a slight shrug. Obviously none of this was making any sense to him, either.  
  
Not that Kirk thought it would. For Spock to dream was one thing. But for his dreams to consist of images so bizarre they rivaled anything Kirk's subconscious mind had ever dredged up was quite another. Something else had to be going on here. The question was, what?  
  
  
He turned his attention back to Spock. "In the briefing room, you said that you hurt Chapel in one of your dreams. Was this the one?”  
  
"Yes. I attempted to cut a piece of cake from her shoulder. She cried out and begged for me to stop, but I did not heed her pleas." Spock suddenly leaned forward, his eyes intent on Kirk. "Jim, while there can be no excuse for my attack upon you..."  
  
"I already said to forget about it."  
  
The Vulcan continued as if Kirk hadn't spoken. "...I do not believe the image I saw on your shoulder was simply a random element of my subconscious. If such were the case, I would not have been compelled to destroy it."  
  
"Are you sure? You were pretty out of it at the time, although there were a few seconds when you seemed to recognize me. You even apologized before you..."  
  
"Precisely. Once I became aware of who you were and what I was about to do, I should also have become cognizant that the perceived 'threat' was false, that in reality, there was nothing there. Thus, I would not have attacked. That I did so regardless strongly indicates that what I saw did, in fact, exist. It was real."  
  
McCoy shook his head. "That's impossible, Spock. I scanned the wound before and after treatment. Nothing unusual showed up."  
  
"That does not necessarily mean there was nothing to find. The scanners in Sickbay will detect only what they are programmed to detect. If what I saw was, as I suspect, an unknown life form, it is highly probable the scanning equipment would not ascertain its presence."  
  
"A mouth as a new life form? Seems a bit far-fetched to me."  
  
“Doctor, it is quite possible that the image I perceived does not reflect the true appearance of the organism.”  
  
“If there even is an organism.”  
  
Kirk held up a hand. "There may or may not be, Bones, but we can't discount the possibility. If Spock is right, then I might not be the only one affected. After all, he did say he saw the same thing on Scotty's neck. There could be others, as well."  
  
"A logical deduction, Captain."  
  
McCoy snorted. "Well, I still think you're both way off base here, but if you are right, then Jim, you'd better come back to Sickbay so I can take another look at that wound."  
  
"All right, Doctor, but as long as that's all you do."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
  
"C'mon, Bones. Don't tell me you wouldn't like anything better than to stick me with a hypo and send me off to dreamland."  
  
"Don't tempt me. Now let's go."  
  
Kirk grinned and rose. "Sit tight, Spock. Hopefully if your theory is correct, you’ll be out of here in no time."  
  
"While I have no desire to remain in the brig any longer than necessary, Captain, I do not believe it is wise to release me before you are certain I no longer present a danger to the ship or the crew."  
  
"Can't argue with that. Still, the sooner we get you out of here, the better."  
  
"A sentiment I certainly share, Captain."  


***********

Moments later, Kirk was back in Sickbay, perched on a diagnostic bed. Bare-chested, he waited patiently as McCoy carefully peeled away the bandage over his shoulder.  
  
"The vascular pad should've already started the healing process. Unless, of course, the 'mouth" has eaten it."  
  
"Very funny, Bones. Just get on with it. I'd like to know what the hell is going on so I can have my first officer back."  
  
"Well, I kinda like the fact he's in the brig. It's nice not to have that hobgoblin breathing down my neck like he normally does when you're in here."  
  
"Bones..." Kirk's voice held a hint of warning.  
  
McCoy knew when to back off. "Okay, okay, just let me get this..." His voice trailed off as he finished removing the bandage. "That's odd."  
  
"What is it?" Kirk glanced down at his shoulder and saw what looked like a rash spreading over the wound.  
  
McCoy frowned. "The wound itself is healing well and there's no sign of infection. There shouldn't be any discoloration." He picked up a tricorder and ran it over the reddened area.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"I'm not sure yet. I'm picking up some cellular degradation, but I don't think it's related to the wound. There also appears to be some kind of residual interplastic signature." He probed gently at the area. "Does that hurt?"  
  
Kirk shook his head. "No, not at all."  
  
  
McCoy frowned again and turned to Chapel. "Get me an interphasic scanner." She nodded and moved away. A moment she returned and handed him the device. He ran it over the wound and his eyes widened. He glanced up at Kirk.  
  
"Jim, Spock may be right. Look." He once again ran the scanner over Kirk's shoulder, the device emitting a blue light. Kirk looked down and his heart skipped a beat at what he saw.  
  
In the center of the light was a small, insect-like creature, its coloration a mixture of green and brown. Several thin tendrils held it firmly to Kirk's skin as its head swiveled back and forth, apparently sensing either the warmth or brightness of the light.  
  
"Bones...what is that?"  
  
McCoy removed the light. "A better question is, what are they?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Jim, we need to get Spock and Scotty down here right away."  
  
Something in McCoy's voice told Kirk any further questions would have to wait. He hopped off the bed and moved to the intercom. A few minutes later, Scotty and Spock appeared, the latter flanked by two security guards.  
  
McCoy gestured them over.” It seems, gentlemen, that Spock's supposed 'hallucinations' weren't hallucinations after all. Take a look."  
  
Once again he shown the light on Kirk's shoulder. Scotty gasped and Spock raised an eyebrow as the creature once again took shape under the light.  
  
McCoy then directed the light to Scott's forehead, revealing a similar creature affixed directly above Scotty's left eyebrow. McCoy lowered the light. "Scotty, turn around." He then shown the light on the back of the Engineer's neck. Yet another was firmly attached to his skin.  
  
McCoy turned to Spock. "In those 'dreams' of yours, were there any other crew members besides Scotty, Uhura and Chapel involved in bizarre behavior or circumstances?"  
  
"Just Lieutenant Sulu, although I would not describe his behavior as bizarre. He was simply eating a piece of cake."  
  
"A piece of cake that came from Nurse Chapel."  
  
"Correct. When I discovered her...situation, I noted a small portion had been removed from her right shoulder. She..." Spock broke off suddenly as his gaze focused on McCoy's left hand. "Doctor..."  
  
  
McCoy didn't hesitate. He shown the light on his hand and to no one's surprise, there was yet another creature. McCoy repeated the same procedure on Chapel's shoulder, with the same result. He glanced at Kirk. "Jim, we need to scan the entire crew. We have to find out how bad the infestation is and how fast it's spreading."  
  
Kirk nodded. "How long do you think it will take?"  
  
"Well, if Spock and Scotty can lend a hand modifying some of our standard tricorders so they can pick up the creatures, I'd say about an hour or so."  
  
"All right then. You three get on it."

**************  
  
"The infestation rate has reached 73% of the crew so far. The cellular decay is accelerating in all cases. So far I haven't been able to find a way to stop it or even slow it down." McCoy glanced around the briefing room, noting the worried expressions. He unconsciously rubbed his left hand, right over the spot where one of the creatures had been detected earlier and most likely was still there.  
  
Kirk saw the gesture, but refrained from commenting. It was taking all his willpower not to do the same. That one of those...things was attached to his own body... "Bones, what exactly are we dealing with here? Are these...creatures feeding off us?"  
  
"In a way. From what I can gather, they appear to be extracting our cellular peptides. It's roughly analogous to the way Terran leeches consume hemoglobin."  
  
At that moment Spock, still flanked by his security guards, gave him a sharp look. It didn't escape Kirk's notice. "What is it, Spock?"  
  
"In my dream, Lieutenant Sulu informed me that the cake he was consuming was made of cellular peptides."  
  
Kirk stared at him for a moment. His intuition was telling him that somehow the two were connected. He filed the thought away for now and turned to McCoy. "Bones, you said these things were removing our peptides. Is there any way to reverse the process?"  
  
"Not until the organisms are removed. And if that doesn’t happen soon, our bodies are going to start losing all cellular cohesion and eventually we'll collapse into nothing but a few pounds of chemicals."  
  
Kirk gave him a worried stare. "Like the crew of the Exeter." It was not quite a question.  
  
"While the cause is different, yes, it's pretty much guaranteed we're going to end up just like them."  
  
"With no planet to beam down to for immunity."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"In that case, we'd better get rid of them, fast. Any ideas?"  
  
McCoy shrugged. "Not yet. We've tried E-M radiation, thermal protons...nothing's worked. The fact they exist in an interphasic state, just beyond our visual and sensory acuity, makes them even more difficult to destroy, if not impossible. Hell, we can't even see them without an IP scanner nor do they register on any of our tricorders."  
  
"Keep working on it. In the meantime, let's try to figure out where these things came from." Kirk glanced around the room. "Any ideas?"  
  
  
Scott leaned forward. "We've scanned th' ship with an IP scanner. Th' only 'creatures' we discovered were th' ones already attached tae th' crew. Nur did we detect any unusual interphasic activity."  
  
Kirk thought a moment. "Could we have picked them up at the Starbase during installation of the warp core?"  
Scott shook his head. "I contacted th' Starbase an' had them sweep th’ base wi’ IP scanners. Nothin'."  
  
Kirk frowned. His intuition was still telling him he was missing something. Something important. He turned to McCoy. "Bones, is Spock infested, as well?"  
  
"Nope, he's clean."  
  
Kirk gave him a puzzled look. "He is?"  
  
"Yeah, but I wouldn't read too much into that. About a quarter of the crew is free of the little buggers, as well."  
  
"But couldn't that be because they haven't been exposed to those who were infested?"  
  
"It could be. But then again, we're not sure how these things are spread. Is it exposure? Or is it something else? Right now we just don't know."  
  
"But what if it is exposure? Shouldn't Spock be infested then? He's certainly been around enough of us who are."  
  
McCoy shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they don't like his peptides. Then again, maybe, as I said, exposure has nothing to do with it. At this point, it's anybody's guess."  
  
"What about the fact he's able to see these things, even though they appear to him to be something else? The 'mouths' on Scotty and me, for example. Why can't the rest of us see them, as well?"  
  
"I don't know. But you have to remember, Jim, Spock didn't just look at us and see those images. Each time he did so, it was when he was either dreaming or hallucinating, if you want to call it that. But he never saw anything when he was awake and alert to his surroundings."  
  
"Not true, Doctor. I was neither dreaming nor hallucinating when I saw the creature on your hand in Sickbay."  
  
McCoy look startled. "You weren't?"  
  
Spock shook his head. "Negative. I was quite cognitive at the time."  
  
Kirk leaned forward. "Spock, can you see these things on any of us right now?"  
  
Spock shifted his gaze to McCoy, then Scott, then back to Kirk. He nodded. "Yes, sir."  
  
  
"But why you and only you? There has to be a connection somehow." The thought that had been niggling in the back of Kirk's mind suddenly came to the fore. He turned to McCoy. "Bones, what if there was another reason Spock's not infested? Or that he's the only one who can 'see' these things?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like maybe they’re using him to communicate."  
  
This time he was the recipient of a sharp look from his first officer. "What is it, Spock?"  
  
"Captain, during my...hallucination in Engineering, at one point I answered what appeared to be an old-fashioned telephone. A voice then informed me to 'Kill them all'."  
  
"Kill who? The crew?"  
  
"Unknown, Captain. But if your hypothesis is correct and these creatures are indeed using me as a means to communicate, that may not be their only intent."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"They appear to also be capable of controlling my actions. It is the only valid explanation for the...incident earlier today."  
  
Kirk knew exactly to what "incident" Spock was referring to, just as he knew exactly why the Vulcan couldn't put it to words. Some memories are just too painful, even for half Vulcans, to give them voice. At least not yet.  
  
"I think, Mr. Spock, it's time we took a closer look at your dreams. Perhaps we can learn more about the creatures by interpreting the symbols and images you've been seeing."  
  
"I agree, Captain. I believe I can employ a method known as 'directed dreaming' to reenact those occurrences."  
  
"What's 'directed dreaming'?"  
  
McCoy spoke up. "It's a therapeutic technique wherein a subject learns to control their own dreams and retain a conscious memory, even while in REM sleep."  
  
"Is there a way you and I can see Spock’s dreams?"  
  
"We'd need to combine both a hyperencephalogram and neurographic scan. That should do the trick."  
  
"How long will that take?"  
  
"No more than an hour."  
  
"Good. Get on it and let me know when you're ready."  
  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Yes, Spock?"  
  
"Since we have strong evidence the creatures can easily dictate my actions, I suggest I remain confined to the brig, under constant surveillance, until Dr. McCoy is ready. If I were to remain free, even while accompanied by security, I believe that should the creatures wish to do so, they could easily cause me to incapacitate my guards and do their bidding."  
  
"Logical, as always, Mr. Spock. Bones, let me know when you're ready."  
  
"Yes, Captain."  
  
An hour later, Kirk watched as McCoy finished hooking up the monitoring equipment to Spock, who was sitting patiently at the edge of a biobed. His two ever-present security guards hovered nearby.  
  
"Okay, Spock, all set. You can lay down now."  
  
"Yes, Doctor." Spock settled down on his back, folded his hands across his chest, and closed his eyes. Within moments, his breathing had settled into the deep rhythm of sleep.  
Kirk turned to McCoy as the doctor turned the scanner on. "Keep your eyes peeled. Even something we might think is insignificant could be important."  
  
"Right". They both focused on the screen, which showed nothing more than an empty corridor. After a moment, Spock rounded a corner and headed toward them.  
  
Kirk glanced at McCoy. . "Bones, can we communicate with Spock? Or will that wake him up?"  
  
"Normally it would, but since he's in control, he'll probably just perceive us as another part of his dream. Anything we say to him will be taken in that context. I..." He was interrupted by a loud ringing sound that caused both men to jump. On the screen, Spock came to a dead stop, clapping his hands over his ears. It was clear from his expression that he was in pain.  
  
  
Kirk quickly glanced down at the bed, concerned that Spock too was suffering. But except for a slight furrowing of his brow, the Vulcan appeared relatively peaceful.  
  
Kirk leaned close to McCoy's ear in order to be heard above the blaring noise. "That sounds like the telephone Spock mentioned."  
  
McCoy nodded. "But where's the receiver?"  
  
Any response Kirk was going to make was forgotten as his attention was diverted to what was happening on the screen. Spock, with a determined look on his face, continued down the corridor and entered the main mess. As soon as he did so, the ringing stopped and he visibly relaxed. Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. The sight of Spock in pain, any pain, no matter how slight, tended to bring every protective instinct he possessed to the fore. Such was the case long before they had become lovers and now...now he was more determined than ever to keep Spock safe and happy. Not an easy thing to do in their profession, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.  
  
  
He turned back to the screen. The room Spock had just entered was crowded, but the Vulcan easily made his way through the throng of crew members until he arrived at a table. A small group of people were standing around it, but they quickly parted to make way for the Vulcan. As they did so, Kirk's eyes widened and McCoy gave a slight gasp. For on top of the table lay none other than Captain James T. Kirk himself. Except he wasn't exactly himself. Rather, like Chapel, his arms and legs were missing and his torso consisted of a large cake. He laid still, his eyes closed, either asleep or unconscious.  
  
Kirk and McCoy watched in astonishment as Spock casually picked up a knife lying nearby and neatly cut a slice of cake from Kirk's right shoulder. Unlike Chapel, however, there was no reaction of pain or protest. Spock slid the piece of cake onto a plate, sat down, and began eating.  
  
Kirk stared at the bizarre image, then turned to McCoy. "Look, Bones. The right shoulder the same place where he stabbed me."  
  
"Not only that, didn't he say the reason he stabbed you was because he saw a mouth on your shoulder?"  
  
"That's right." Kirk paused. "Wait a minute. The cake, the mouth – they’re both symbols of consumption." He looked down at Spock. "Spock, what kind of cake are you eating?"  
  
On the screen, the image of Spock answered, "It is a cellular peptide cake. With mint frosting."  
  
McCoy frowned. "Cellular peptides exactly what those creatures are extracting from us."  
  
Kirk opened his mouth to reply when once again his ears were assaulted by the same loud ringing noise as before. On the screen, Spock dropped his utensil and clapped his hands over his ears, his face contorted with pain. He struggled to his feet and moved to a nearby table where Scott and Uhura were seated, the latter once again sipping from a straw attached to the Engineer's head. As Spock drew near, the ringing grew even louder.  
  
Once again, Kirk found it hard to remain still. He wanted nothing more than to gather the Vulcan in his arms and hold him tight against the pain. But for now, he could do nothing but watch.  
  
To distract himself, he turned to McCoy. "Bones, any ideas as to what the ringing would symbolize?"  
  
"If it is from an old fashioned telephone, then my guess would be communication."  
  
"That's exactly what I'm thinking."  
  
They turned their attention back to the screen where Uhura was now offering the straw to Spock. "Want some, sugar? It's delicious."  
  
Spock shook his head. Uhura resumed drinking as the ringing continued. Suddenly, Scotty slammed a hand on the table. "Mr. Spock, would ye please answer that?!"  
  
Spock nodded, reached under his tunic, and drew out an old fashioned telephone. Kirk's eyes widened as the Vulcan picked up the receiver. "Hello?" He listened for a moment, then suddenly dropped the phone, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.  
  
Kirk leaned forward. "Spock, let me hear!"  
  
Obediently the Vulcan bent down, picked up the phone, and held the receiver out. Both Kirk and McCoy could hear a strange voice shouting, "Kill them! Kill them all! Before it's too late!"  
  
Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Who is this? Who do you want to kill? My crew?"  
  
Suddenly the scene changed to reveal Spock once again in the corridor. This time, however, he was not alone. In front of him stood a human male, approximately Kirk's age, wearing a pair of work coveralls. He stood, hands on hips, staring at Spock in what Kirk could only interpret as a belligerent manner.  
  
Kirk leaned forward. "Who are you? What do you want?"  
  
The crewman turned to face the screen. "I am the symbolic representation of Commander Spock's subconscious mind. I am here to warn him, and you, about the danger you are about to face."  
  
Kirk's eyes narrowed. "You mean the interphasic organisms."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Then tell me, how to we destroy them?"  
  
Before the other could answer, the corridor was filled with the now-familiar ringing sound. Spock immediately winced in pain and once again put his hands over his ears. Kirk gritted his teeth, hating the fact he was utterly helpless to ease the Vulcan's pain. Just then, the stranger stepped in front of Spock and looked at Kirk. "Answer it."  
  
"Answer what? There's no phone."  
  
"No, no, no. Don't take things so literally. When I say answer it, I mean respond to it...to them."  
  
Kirk opened his mouth to reply when suddenly the ringing stopped and without warning, three crewmen he didn't recognize came running down the corridor. They skidded to a halt in front of the stranger and one of them pulled out a phaser. "Be quiet!" The words had barely left his mouth before he pointed the phaser and fired at the stranger, who disappeared in a flash, instantly vaporized. Kirk's heart leapt in his throat as the crewman then pointed the phaser at Spock, but one of the others quickly pulled him away. "Not now. We have work to do."  
The three then moved over to the wall, where, with their bare hands, they ripped it apart, revealing a warp plasma conduit. Several picks and shovels magically appeared and the crewmen picked them up and began whacking away at the conduit. At the same time, the ringing noise filled the air again, becoming faster and louder as the workmen continued to destroy the conduit.  
  
McCoy looked at Kirk. "I wonder what those crewmen represent?"  
  
"I don't know, Bones, but I do know that conduit is the one that was installed with the new warp core." He paused. "That ringing...the stranger said to respond to it."  
  
"Not quite, Jim. He said to respond to them. I'm assuming he means those three."  
  
"But how?"  
  
"Beats me. Maybe you should try talking to them."  
  
"It's worth a try." Kirk focused his attention on the screen. "You there! What are you doing?"  
  
The same crewman who had killed the stranger turned toward him. "We are...your enemies." He turned back and once again joined the others in tearing apart the conduit. At that moment, Spock stepped forward. "You are not authorized to work in this area. I demand that you cease your efforts immediately."  
  
Instead of obeying, the three turned and raising their tools, began to advance toward Spock, their manner anything but friendly. Kirk's fists clenched. Every fiber of his being was screaming for him to take action, to protect Spock from these three who meant him harm. But he could do nothing.  
  
Apparently, however, Spock could. As the others drew near, he opened his mouth and gave a loud, ear-piercing SHRIEK that was so intense both Kirk and McCoy stepped back in alarm. On the screen, the three crewmen moved back, as well, their faces filled with fear. But as soon as Spock grew quiet, they began advancing again.  
  
Kirk leaned forward. "Spock! The noise! It causes them pain! Do it again!"  
  
Obediently Spock opened his mouth and gave another SHRIEK, this one louder than the last. The three crewmen stumbled backward, struggling to keep their balance. Spock stepped forward, emitting another SHRIEK. One of the crewmen dropped his tool and slumped against the wall. The others fell to their knees. Moments later, all three were unconscious. Spock closed his mouth and gazed down at them, then nodded. “I understand." The screen went blank and at the same moment, Spock stirred and his eyes opened. He immediately sat up and turned to Kirk. "Captain, please instruct Engineer Scott to adjust the ship's subprocessors to emit an interphasic pulse."  
  
Kirk didn’t hesitate. He moved over the intercom, where he relayed Spock's request. He then returned to the Vulcan.  
  
"Explain."  
  
"The three crewmen in my dreams symbolized the organisms who are currently trying to destroy the ship. The ringing of the phone and the voice at the other end represented the danger to the ship and crew. I believe both were elements of my subconscious mind to serve as a warning as to what was happening."  
  
"What about those noises you were making?"  
  
"Apparently my auditory processes were detecting high-frequency interphasic signatures from the organisms, which occasionally translated into visual images. The sounds I was producing were an attempt by my subconscious mind to keep them at bay.”  
  
"They seemed to cause the crewmen pain before they lost consciousness.”  
  
Spock nodded. "That is why I asked that Mr. Scott adjust the subprocessors. By producing a high-frequency interphasic pulse, it should have the same effect upon the organisms."  
  
Just then the intercom whistled. "Scott tae Keptin. Ready when ye are, sair."  
  
"Stand by." Kirk looked over at McCoy. "Bones, once Scotty begins sweeping the ship with the interphasic pulse, I want you to start monitoring the creatures for any response."  
  
McCoy nodded. "I'll start with you. Let me get the IP scanner." He moved away as Kirk turned back to the intercom. "Give it a few seconds, Scotty, then begin."  
  
"Aye, sair."  
  
  
As McCoy returned, scanner in hand, a high-pitched whine filled the room. It was similar to the shriek Spock emitted in his dream and grew higher and higher until it moved out of range of human hearing. McCoy focused the scanner on Kirk's right shoulder and once again the tiny creature was illuminated. This time it was crouched close to the skin, its antennae curled inward. Seconds later it began to dissolve and was soon gone. McCoy then shown the light on his left hand. That organism too was gone.  
  
"That's it, Jim. It's working."  
  
Kirk breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at Spock. "Once again, Commander, it appears you've saved the day."  
  
" 'Saved the day', Captain? While I acknowledge my actions have aided in eliminating the threat to the ship and crew, I hardly believe I had any influence on the time and space continuum."  
  
Kirk grinned as McCoy rolled his eyes. "Never mind, Spock. Let's go mind the store."

**************** 

  
"Captain's log, supplemental. The organisms infesting the Enterprise have now been completely eliminated. As far as how they got on board in the first place, it is Commander Spock's theory that the infestation originated within the warp core we obtained at Starbase 84.” The conduit was manufactured on Thanatos 7 using a new interphasic fusion process. We believe that process attracted the organisms to the conduit, where they lay dormant until we activated the warp core. They were also responsible for the fact we couldn't get the warp core on-line. Apparently the creatures were disrupting the plasma flow. As a result, it became necessary to manufacture a new conduit, which should be completed in approximately six hours. Until then, the majority of the crew has beamed down to the base to enjoy an unexpected, but welcome, extended leave."  
  
Kirk thumbed off the recorder and moved over to the food processor in his quarters. He punched in a code, then removed the covered plate from the processor. He grabbed a couple of smaller plates he’d gotten earlier from the mess before heading for Spock's quarters through their shared bathroom. As he entered the red-lit room, he noted Spock was seated at his desk, apparently working. The Vulcan glanced up at his approach, his expression a mixture of guilt and regret.  
  
"Jim, I once again wish to apologize for my behavior earlier today. I assure you, it was never my intent to..."  
  
"Spock, I already said to forget about it. It wasn't your fault."  
  
"But Jim...."  
  
" 'But Jim' nothing. Let me ask you something. If our positions were reversed and I attacked you, would you hold me responsible?"  
  
Spock quickly shook his head.  
  
"Then isn't it logical that I shouldn't blame you, either?"  
  
Spock stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Once again, Captain, your reasoning is most sound."  
  
"Glad to hear it. But since turnabout is only fair play, I made us a little something to snack on." He set everything down on the desk and slid the large plate toward Spock. With a flourish, he removed the cover. "Ta da!"  
  
  
Spock's eyebrows rose. For on the plate lay a small cake, shaped and decorated to resemble...himself. He stared at it for a long moment, then his gaze rose to meet Kirk's. "I must confess to some curiosity, Jim."  
  
"Curiosity about what?"  
  
"I cannot help but wonder what the Earth psychologist Dr. Freud would say about the symbolism of devouring...oneself?"  
  
"I think he'd say, 'Mr. Spock, sometimes a cake is just a cake."  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow as Kirk cut a piece of the cake, placed it on a plate, and slid it toward him. "I would think in this instance, a more appropriate phrase might be 'You can have your cake and eat it, too'."  
  
"Change the word 'have' to 'be' and I think you just may be right. Although when it comes to eating, there's something else besides cake that I'd rather be nibbling on right now."  
  
Spock paused, his fork, laden with cake, halfway to his mouth. "A decision with which Dr. McCoy would no doubt agree."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Merely that if given the choice, the good doctor would rather you indulged in the former rather than the latter. He has, after all, been known to raise strenuous objections to your consumption of confections."  
  
"Well, in that case, maybe for once I should follow his advice." Kirk rose and moved over to Spock. He pulled the Vulcan to his feet, cupped a hand behind the dark head, and tugged gently. Spock's head lowered as soft lips met his own. The kiss deepened as Kirk's tongue probed the inside of the warm mouth, which was filled with the taste of chocolate. Spock moaned with pleasure and Kirk instantly grew hard. Not that he hadn't heard that sound before, but usually he had to work a lot harder before Spock became uninhibited enough to voice his needs for what he so desperately wanted. Kirk spared a moment to wonder if the chocolate had anything to do with it before he broke off the kiss. He quickly divested the Vulcan of his uniform top and undershirt, and ran a tongue over one nipple. Spock arched his back into the contact. "...Jim..."  
  
Must be the chocolate. To test his theory, Kirk reached over to a nearby plate and gathered a generous portion of frosting on one finger. He dropped to his knees and carefully drew a circle of chocolate around the exposed navel. He then guided Spock down to the deck, settling the Vulcan gently on his back. He pressed a kiss to the furred chest before moving further down the flat abdomen. Spock's ankles beat a tattoo on the floor and he groaned as, his theory confirmed, Kirk licked the chocolate away with slow swipes of his tongue.  
  
“Lift your hips."  
  
  
The Vulcan quickly complied as Kirk unfastening his trousers, sliding the garment down to Spock's knees. Fingers tangled in his hair as Kirk nibbled his way further down until his nose was buried in the curly hair surrounding the Vulcan's penis and balls. Spock instantly grew hard, arching his back as his throat emitting a low keening sound. His hands scrabbled at the floor before moving up to clutch Kirk's shoulders. "Jim...pants..."  
  
Kirk grinned. "What about them?" Before giving Spock a chance to answer, he began licking and sucking at the soft flesh right above the Vulcan's groin,  
  
Spock's mouth opened and closed several times before he was finally able to speak. "...off..."  
  
Kirk eagerly complied, peeling the trousers the rest of the way off, followed by the Vulcan's boots and socks. The lean, long body was now laid out before him, the green-tinged cock now standing at attention.  
  
Kirk cradled the Vulcan's hips, thumbs running over the contours of the hip bones. A shudder ran down the thin form as Kirk cupped a hand over the hardened cock. Spock spread his legs and thrust up into the warmth of that hand, trying to hook one leg over a hip, a waist, a shoulder, any portion of Kirk's body that he can. But his motor control seemed to be in the same state as his ability to speak and he ended up thrashing about, loud keening sounds filling the room as his alternately clutched and released Kirk's shoulders. "...jim...please..."  
  
Kirk felt his own cock jerk and strain at the fabric of his pants at the pleading and wanton desperation of the Vulcan's voice. He bent down and engulfed the stiff cock in his mouth, his tongue lapping at the base. Spock gave a guttural cry and his hips thrust upward, almost choking Kirk with his efforts to bury himself further in Kirk's mouth. Spock was quivering uncontrollably, head thrown back, mouth open as he gasped for air. His hands were now gripping Kirk's shoulders so hard they were sure to leave bruises, but both were now beyond caring. Kirk's head began bobbing up and down with increasing speed, establishing a rhythm that was sure to drive the Vulcan ruthlessly toward orgasm. One hand reached down and he began fingering and rubbing the puckered skin of the anus. Spock gave a sharp hiss as his hands clamped over the meld points on Kirk's face with almost painful pressure. Kirk instantly sank into a whirlwind of sensation, as Spock's mind opened up to his and Kirk also felt the hardness of the floor against the Vulcan's back, the fire between his legs, the ever increasing build to orgasm, the pressure, the heat, the flames...  
  
Mind to mind, link to link, the pressure between them built until it shattered, drawing violent, shuddering orgasms from both. Fingers fell away from his temples as Kirk eagerly swallowed the thick cream filling his mouth before releasing the softening cock. Exhausted, he pillowed his head on one thigh and tried to catch his breath. He could feel the vibration of Spock's heart as it beat a much more rapid rhythm beneath his ear, the Vulcan's chest twitching and shaking as he too tried to bring his breathing under control. After a moment, hands reached down and gripped his shoulders, tugging him forward until he lay draped over the Vulcan like a living blanket. Spock pressed his face into Kirk's neck, nuzzling the soft flesh. After a moment, his eyes sought Kirk’s. “Jim, I believe you are correct."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"While the taste of confections such as chocolate cake are somewhat...enjoyable, I find there are other 'tastes' I find much more pleasurable."  
  
  
Kirk grinned. “And a lot less fattening. Although, “he grimaced as the sticky mess in his pants made itself known, "they're a lot messier."  
  
"Indeed. I believe a shower is in order."  
  
"Can't argue with that.” Kirk rose and pulled Spock to his feet. As they headed toward the bathroom, he spared one last glance at the remnants of the cake. Spock was right. As good as the cake was, it paled in comparison to what he shared with the man at his side. Even if Spock really wasn't made of chocolate.


End file.
